


Better Luck Next Time, Bodt

by sluttyeren



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Drabble, Jean is a whore when he's high, M/M, PWP, Recreational Drug Use, but basically, jeanmarco, porn with a tiny dash of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:08:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1304341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sluttyeren/pseuds/sluttyeren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from tubmlr: Jeanmarco drabble with the prompt for the word "marijuana". AKA an excuse for me to write porn of my otp. Jean is a little slut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Luck Next Time, Bodt

Friday nights were quiet for Marco. They were his, and he could do what he wanted and it was relaxing to have this freedom. Which, admittedly, was reading or watching movies. But the point was they were _his_ and who cared if that was all he did. Once in a great while he let his friends convince him that going out with them would be fun and that he could relax on Saturday, although usually he worked on Saturdays and Sundays so no he could not thank you very much.  
  
This Friday night it seemed like a great idea to get himself buried in blankets with a huge bowl of popcorn and watch horror movies. This may not have been the best idea. Having his own room was great, because he could do whatever he wanted, but the downside was obviously that his love for horror films led to more than one sleepless night questioning every noise he heard in the dark. He huddled further under his pile of blankets, and jumped when he heard his phone buzz on the table near his bed. Maybe he should start watching comedies or something.  
  
It was a text from Jean. Damn it.  
  
 _ **What r u doing?**_  
  
This could only be trouble. It was… 1 a.m. he realized as he checked the time on his phone. Shit. He clicked Jean’s name and hit the little green symbol to call him, holding the phone to his ear as he fell back against his pillows.  
  
“Marco!”  
  
“Yes, Jean?”  
  
“You sound tired man did I wake you up?”  
  
“Not exactly.”  
  
“Aahhh man! I’m sorry Marco. Go back to sleep I guess.” He sounded weird.  
  
“What’s up Jean? I’m sure you asked what I was doing for a reason.”  
  
“Can I come over?” Marco swallowed past the lump in his throat. No, that sounds like a terrible idea. He didn’t need that. But damn he wanted it. If he was being honest with himself (which he tried to avoid at all costs because it only made him unhappy) he wanted Jean to do this more often. Although he knew he wouldn’t. That was fine too. Whatever he could get.  
  
“Jean how high are you right now.”  
  
“Shut up that doesn’t matter. Can I or not?” Ding ding ding…  
  
“Sure, whatever. Door’ll be unlocked.” He hung up and dragged himself out of bed to twist the handle on the door, hearing the lock click open. The he fell back into bed, laying on his stomach. Why him? Why did Marco Bodt of all people have to put up with this shit? Okay so he couldn’t exactly complain, because he did want this, but still. When he heard the door open and shut, not as softly as he would have liked for this late at night, he rolled over, watching Jean turn the lock and move blindly into the room in the dark. Oops, maybe he should have put a light on. Too late.  
  
“Marco?” Jean whispered into the dark as though he wasn’t sure he would be there. Idiot.  
  
“Yeah, Jean.” Marco didn’t bother keeping his voice down. Who would hear him?  
  
“Mmm hey.” Jesus what an idiot. Jean wrapped his arms around Marco’s chest, hot breath tickling the back of his neck and hard dick digging into his ass. Well, he was a sexy idiot.  
  
Marco rolled over under him and Jean didn’t waste any time planting his lips against his, hands roaming over his chest and sides and into his hair. He was sloppy and eager and it turned Marco on, knowing how much Jean wanted him. He moaned against Jeans lips, grinding up against him.  
  
“Fuck, Marco…” Jean sat up, straddling his thighs, and pulled his shirt over his head. Marco did the same, laying on his back again when he was done. Jean leaned down to kiss his lips again before moving on to lick his way down his chest, tugging impatiently at his boxers until they were out of the way. Marco propped himself up to see Jean lick his lips before he wrapped them around the head of his cock. He bit his lip and whined, hips twitching up into the heat of Jean’s mouth. He was clumsy and he reeked of pot but Marco didn’t care since Jean kept pressing his tongue against him and sucking like that, so he kept his mouth shut. He let Jean do what he wanted, until he noticed he was going slower and making more noise around him, panting and moaning around his cock. Marco sat up, hand in Jean’s hair and _shit_ he was fingering himself already, and if that isn’t the best sight Marco has ever seen he doesn’t know what is. But then he’s pulling his lips off of Marco, sitting up and leaning over him to pull out the lube he knows Marco keeps in the top drawer. Lying flat on his back, he watched Jean squeeze lube out onto his hand (and bless him for having the presence of mind to warm it up between his fingers first) before he ran his slick hand up Marco’s hard length. Marco was groaning, until Jean sinking down and stretching himself over his cock had him whimpering and gripping the sheets.  
  
“Fuck, Jean” he gasped when Jean finally stopped moving. Jean sat still for a moment, brows pulled together tight, eyes closed, and licking his lips. He was beautiful. No wait, Marco shouldn’t be thinking these things. It was almost two in the morning and soon they would be done and Jean would leave and Marco would spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, hating that he had let him come over in the first place.  
  
Attempting to banish these thoughts from his mind, Marco dug his blunt nails into Jean’s thighs and rolled his hips up slowly. He grinned at the way Jean would bite his lip and arch his back, pushing Marco deeper. He started thrusting up into him slow and deep, keeping his pace steady while he watched Jean’s face twist in pleasure. He mentioned he was beautiful right? Damn, the way his brows pulled together when he shut his eyes and concentrated on fucking himself on Marco’s cock was unfair.  
  
“God, _Marco_ ” Jean moaned and damn the way he moaned his name was fucking filthy, but he cracked one of his eyes open and smirked down at him like he knew exactly what he was doing to him. He probably did, ‘cause he was an asshole that would tease Marco like that if he thought it would get him what he wanted. It did. Marco trailed his hands up Jean’s thighs to his waist and flipped them over, sliding back into his ass easily and drawing more noise from Jean when he picked up the pace. Jean wanted him to take control, be rough with him. He dug his nails into Marco’s back, his hips meeting every thrust. Jean was always the vocal one, growing louder the faster Marco moved, restlessly tossing his head from side to side and wrapping his legs around him only to have them fall limp on either side of him again. Marco was quiet, panting and groaning when the muscles in Jean’s ass tightened around him when he came on his own stomach, whimpering and still rutting up against Marco until he pulled out, smirking as he stroked himself until his release mixed with Jean’s on his stomach. He looked good like that; sweaty and fucked out and red in the face, covered in come. Marco wished he could take a picture.  
  
Instead he got up and grabbed his clothes off the floor, getting himself dressed again. Behind him he could hear Jean grabbing tissues from the box by the side of his bed and cleaning himself up, so he grabbed his clothes up off the floor too as held them out to him when he was done. He watched Jean pull his clothes on silently, and before he left Jean kissed Marco again, smiling at him in the dark. He could have asked him to stay, probably should have since it was the middle of the night and Jean lived across campus and he was definitely still high. None of those would be the reason he asked him to stay though. But he didn’t ask him to stay. He sat on his bed and listened to the door click shut softly behind him, then fell down on top of his blankets and stared up at the ceiling.  
  
  
Better luck next time, Bodt.

**Author's Note:**

> This took forever to finish writing and it is done now I am done now and I have like 14 more drabbles to write


End file.
